


Études

by helloitskrisha



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Love Never Dies - Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, F/M, Ficlets, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitskrisha/pseuds/helloitskrisha
Summary: "Étude: a short musical composition, typically for one instrument, designed as an exercise to improve technique"(A compilation of ficlets/short Tumblr prompts --Table of Contents in ch1 notes!)
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé
Comments: 103
Kudos: 75





	1. "Are you a cat or a dog person?"

**Author's Note:**

> **TABLE OF CONTENTS:**  
>  Ch1: "Are you a cat or a dog person?" \- Christine tries to learn more about her mysterious music teacher.  
> [Ch2: "Procrastinate"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/55703689) \- Erik is too distracted to compose.  
> [Ch3: "Floorboard"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/55703788) \- Christine goes ghost-hunting.  
> [Ch4: "Check"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/55703866) \- Erik, Christine, and a misunderstanding about a slice of cake  
> [Ch5: "You did WHAT"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/55799242) \- A necessary discussion  
> [Ch6: "Rock Music"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/56238256) \- Nadir is concerned about Erik's strange behavior.  
> [Ch7: "Is it hot in here?"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/56238268) \- Christine tries her hand at seduction.  
> [Ch8: "Things you said too quietly"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/57881125) \- That night beneath a moonless sky, Erik makes a decision.  
> [Ch9: "Things you said with too many miles between us"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/58382809) \- Christine contemplates her pregnancy and the relationship she had with Erik. A follow-up to "Things you said too quietly."  
> [Ch10: "Things you didn't say at all"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/59010433) \- "One love, one lifetime" Raoul had promised. And he is determined to keep his promises.  
> [Ch11: "Closure"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261641/chapters/60090034) \- After ten long years apart, Erik and Christine meet once more. LND AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five-Sentence Prompt from Mazen: "Are you a cat or a dog person?"

" _Are you a cat or a dog person_?"

Even after she had seen what lay behind his mask, she couldn’t stop seeing him as this otherworldly presence, still more mystery than man. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine her strange maestro ever having been a child or playing games or having pets or any sort of thing that seemed too _normal_.

With an expression that looked both amused and resigned, he replied, “I’m quite fond of _all animals_ … they would never judge you just because of your face.”

She looked into his eyes—those same golden eyes that once looked so alien to her—and she finally saw more than just a terrifying phantom and a mysterious angel. She still wasn’t sure if she could love him but perhaps, just _perhaps_ , she could try.


	2. "Procrastinate"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three-sentence prompt from Anon: "could you use the word procrastinate in a fic?"

Erik had never been one to procrastinate, preferring to spend countless sleepless nights by the organ—getting up only to drink water or attend to nature’s call—until his compositions are nothing less than perfect. _Don Juan Triumphant_ was meant to be his masterpiece, his _legacy_ , the final thing of beauty he will give to this world that had so long ago forsaken him.

Tonight, however, he procrastinates because she is here and she is beautiful, looking so much like her mother; his child and the light of his life, and how could he focus on lifeless instruments and empty music sheets when his most precious creation is here and real and alive?


	3. "Floorboard"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three-sentence prompt from Mazen: One word for a fic: "floorboard"

The whispers about The Phantom, the mysterious being that haunted the Palais Garnier, had always intrigued Christine who had loved ghost stories even as a child. She and some of the other ballet rats had, more than once, stayed up late and wandered from their dorm to try and catch even the slightest glimpse of the Opera Ghost… though they’ve never succeeded.

One night, she wanders the halls alone, listening for any strange occurrences, the slightest creak of a floorboard or the faint scrape of a door opening on its own; what she didn’t expect to hear was a voice—deep and sonorous and enticing—beckoning to her, saying “Do not be afraid. I am your Angel.”


	4. "Check"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a-partofthenarrative: "3 sentence fic - check"

“Erik, did you eat the last slice of cake? I told you that I was saving it as a treat for tonight,” said Christine, hands on her hips and a look of disdain in her eyes.

The Opera Ghost turned away from his compositions and looked at his wife with a bewildered expression, saying, “Ah, my dear, I haven’t touched it, I promise you. Perhaps… perhaps, you could _check the kitchen_ again?”

As Christine, full of pent-up frustration, berated her poor, overwhelmed husband about how she had a terrible day at rehearsals and how she had been looking forward to eating that last slice tonight, a happy Ayesha licked the frosting from her paws in the other room.


	5. "You did WHAT"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence fic prompt from tallestsilver: “You did WHAT” E/C!

“You did WHAT?” exclaimed the furious soprano, holding the Opera Ghost’s threatening letters to the managers in her hands.

The Phantom, normally so confident and imposing, backed down, shoulders hunched like a child being reprimanded, “I did what I thought was necessary, what is best for you and your career.”

With a look in her eyes that was both firm and gentle, she looked up at him, “I love you and I trust you, but only _I_ get to decide what is best for me.”


	6. "Rock Music"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Anon: "Erik and Nadir. Rock Music for the 3 sentence"

Nadir was no stranger to Erik’s music, having secretly admired his compositions even during their times in Persia, but these strange noises he heard as he ventured into The Phantom’s lair were so different from the elegant, harmonious melodies at the opera. The cacophony of loud, primal, _discordant_ sounds accompanied by particularly aggressive vocals assaulted Nadir’s ears, and he feared that his friend had succumbed to madness after the young soprano left with her vicomte.

Before he could even get the chance to shout “what on earth are you doing?”, Erik had turned around to face him, grinning as he ceased _banging_ and _clanging_ the percussion instrument before him, saying, “What do you think, Daroga? I call it… hard rock.”


	7. "Is it hot in here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From notaghost3: 3 sentence prompt. E/C “Is it hot in here?”

She knew he loved her since he said that he wanted to marry her… but he always kept his distance, shied away from her touch as though she were a flame and he were a moth, making her wonder if he desired her the way that husbands usually desired their wives.

Determined to find out, she sneaked into his workroom, fiddling with her dressing gown as she stood before him, a hint of mischievousness gleaming in her eyes as she asked, almost _purred_ , “Is it just me or is it hot in here?”

Erik looked up at her, hungrily taking in the vision of beauty before him, and spoke, his voice deep and low and enticing, “My, my, it wouldn’t do for my Christine to boil in this festering heat… let your Erik take those pesky clothes off of you.”


	8. Things you said too quietly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Mazen: "Prompt: things you said too quietly"

Even in sleep, she looked so beautiful.

As he lay next to the woman he had loved from afar for so long, Erik could hardly believe that he wasn’t dreaming. After everything that happened that night in the opera house, after he had threatened the life of her boy and made so many unspeakable mistakes, still, she had shown him great kindness. He had let her go, and yet, she came back.

She found where he hid, and she loved him. _Truly loved him_. Finally, he knew what it was like to be one with another soul, to be seen for all of who he is and still be accepted.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched this perfect being, this _angel_ , as she rested. Her soft brown curls were still a mess, a reminder of what had just transpired between them, and her eyes were closed as though she were perfectly at peace. She was still fully bare, exposed to his sinful gaze, and he gently wrapped a blanket around her petite form.

“I’m sorry, Christine,” he said, much too quietly, voice barely above a whisper, “you gave me your love, and yet I am unworthy of it. After everything I’ve done… I do not deserve you.”

He was a wanted man in France. He knew he couldn’t stay. This was to be his punishment, his atonement for his sins, and he could not make Christine uproot her life just because of his mistakes.

She stirred, softly mumbling, “What did you say, love?”

Erik froze, and, for a brief moment, he wondered whether she had heard what he said. When a light snore sounded from her lips, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you will understand my decision in time,” he whispered as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. A small smile spread across Christine’s face, and the pain in Erik’s heart almost became unbearable.

How could he live without seeing her smile ever again? Yet, he knew he should. He can’t watch her hurt herself trying to pick up the pieces of a broken man. She deserved the world, even if that perfect world didn’t include him.

He dressed and gathered his things and prepared to slip away before the sun could rise. As he walked away, he looked back at his sleeping angel one more time.

A hint of a smile still formed in her delicate features. He hoped that she was having good dreams.


	9. Things you said with too many miles between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Mazen: “E/C: things you said with too many miles between us.”
> 
> This acts as a sort of follow-up to my last LND-inspired piece but I believe it can be read and enjoyed on its own.

Frustration. Anger. Despair.

These powerful, overwhelming emotions were what Christine felt after waking up and finding him gone. She could not stop the tears that flowed from her eyes, remembering the passionate night she had just shared with Erik.

Had it all been a dream? No, it couldn’t have been. She was here, waking up in an unfamiliar room that still held his scent. It had been too dark to see anything last night, but she still vividly remembered how his misshapen lips felt against her own, how she had held his tall, lithe form and felt every inch and crevice of his scarred flesh. Even in her wildest dreams, she could never have imagined how _right_ it felt to be one with him.

But now, he was gone and the room felt so much colder without the warmth of his body beside her.

She tried to look for him, for any way to follow him to wherever he had escaped to. But the kind Persian man who had helped her find him the first time was gone. And Madame Giry and Meg had disappeared, as well. His lair, his instruments, all of his belongings, and even the mirror in her dressing room had been destroyed by the mob.

Every last connection she had to him was gone. All remnants of what they had shared, now only a memory. He was a ghost once more, a haunting reminder of the past they had shared and the future they could have had.

Raoul welcomed her with open arms when she returned to him. He had wiped the tears from her eyes and, sensing her overwhelming distress, decided not to ask too many questions about where she had gone.

Guilt flooded her heart and she tried to tell him that she couldn’t marry him, not when she loved another. But he whispered sweet, reassuring words in her ear, promised her safety and security, and how could she bear to break the heart of the boy she had adored since childhood?

The wedding was an intimate affair. Only a few of his family members and some of her friends from the ballet corps had attended. She appreciated how Raoul respected her desire for privacy. After the affair at the Opera Populaire, she has had enough of the public’s attention and judgment.

And when they first consummated their marriage, it was pleasant. Raoul was kind and gentle and attentive. But she missed Erik’s passion, the excitement and thrill that she felt whenever they were together, though she would never admit that fact—not even to herself.

One night, she walked in the gardens, slipping away from the bed as her husband slept soundly. She looked up. There were no stars, no moon to illuminate the heavens, and remembered her Angel, the ghost turned man.

“Erik,” she whispered to the moonless sky, “I don’t know where you are right now. You’re probably hundreds or even thousands of miles away from me, but I just needed to talk to you because I have no one else to tell…”

Tears fell from her eyes as she continued speaking, “I am with child, Erik. And I know… I know that he isn’t Raoul’s.”

A gentle breeze flew in her direction, calming her beating heart.

“I don’t know what to do, Erik. And I can’t stop hating you for disappearing with no explanation, leaving me to deal with the consequences. How could you take that decision away from me? You could have laid the options and let _me_ decide whether I wanted to stay or run away with you!”

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she finally said the words she had been holding in for so long. “I hate what you’ve done… and yet, I still can’t find it in me to hate _you_. Wherever you are, Erik, I hope you are finally happy and at peace… And, despite everything, I already know how much I’m going to love this child, this living reminder that what we shared was real.”

She smiled softly as she touched the small bulge in her belly, and, with one final look at the sky, she retreated back to her room and placed a gentle kiss on her husband’s forehead.

Miles and miles away, in a small flat in Coney Island, a masked man was looking up at the same moonless sky, unable to sleep, waiting for the day he would once again hear his Angel sing.


	10. Things you didn't say at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Anon: “R/C for things you didn’t say at all?”
> 
> Here’s an R/C LND-ish AU where Raoul was never a gambling addict/alcoholic who wasted away their fortune. He’s just a decent man, trying his best to make the most out of his *complicated* situation. He’s partially inspired by Kay!Raoul. (Takes place in the same universe as my other two LND ficlets but can be read on its own.)

In Raoul’s eyes, there is no one like Christine Daaé.

There have been other women who caught his attention, but those were always fleeting infatuations, forgotten as soon as they left his line of sight. Christine, however, was never far from his mind.

He had loved her even when they were children, loved her as he ran to the sea and fetched her red scarf. He had loved her during those beautiful summer days that they spent playing in the sand, loved her even during harsh storms where they stayed in his home all night and read each other storybooks.

When they found each other again as adults, all of those blissful memories came rushing back to him like a tidal wave. The girl he had once loved was now a beautiful woman. As soon as he saw her singing on that stage, he knew that he would not let anything tear them apart again.

Not even a Ghost could keep him away from her.

He wished that their love could be as simple and innocent as it was back then. But they were no longer children playing house, and marriage was a decidedly more complicated affair. Full of problems and compromises and days where they just couldn’t see eye-to-eye.

“One love, one lifetime” he had promised her. And Raoul was determined to keep his promise.

Christine was not the same after the events at the Opera Populaire. She was always so sullen, so quiet. There was a faraway look in her eyes whenever he tried to converse with her, tried to cheer her up from whatever was bothering her. She would always smile politely, nod softly, but he could tell that she wasn’t truly listening.

He thought they had vanquished the Phantom that night, but there he was, still haunting his beloved’s mind.

“Raoul,” she had said one night as they sat together in bed, “there is something I must tell you…”

“What is it, Lotte?” he looked at her, concern coloring his expression.

“I can’t… I need to tell you the truth… oh, I’m so _sorry_ , Raoul,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes.

Raoul quickly drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her and letting her rest her head on his chest. “Whatever it is, Christine, I can handle it. Please let me help you.”

Another whimpering sob escaped her lips and Raoul’s heart broke at the sound.

“I am with child, Raoul.”

His eyes brightened at the confession and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling widely, “That’s wonderful news, my love!”

“You… you don’t understand,” Christine cried.

A myriad of thoughts and emotions flooded Raoul’s heart and mind, but he dared not say them out loud.

 _Yes, I do, Christine_. _That evening before our wedding, I knew where you went. I knew that I couldn’t stop you from looking for him. I let you go because I couldn’t bear to see you looking so sad, so consumed with guilt for leaving a man who didn’t deserve your compassion. I wanted you to get the closure you needed, but I fear that meeting him caused you even more heartache._

_Did he touch you? Did you let him?_

These were the words Raoul considered saying. But as he looked at his wife’s heartbroken expression, he couldn’t find it in him to ask.

Instead, he held her closer and kissed her cheek softly. “Perhaps not. I admit that I don’t always understand what is going on in your mind. But here is what I do know… I love you and I promised to stay by your side, as your husband, no matter what.”

Christine leaned into his embrace, eyes still full of tears, “Raoul, I… I loved another before… before you and I got married…”

He interrupted, “Do you love _me_ , Christine?”

“Of course, I do! I… what happened before…”

“What happened before doesn’t matter. It is in the past.”

“You don’t even know what I’m trying to say…”

“All I know is that we are here _now_. I love you and you love me. I can’t promise that things will be easy, but I will promise to stay. When you wake up in the morning, I’ll be there by your side. I’ll be there for all of _our child’s_ firsts. I’ll be here with you, in sickness and in health. But you’ll have to try too, Christine. Forget the past and try to live in the present with me.”

Christine was quiet for a while, seeming to think deeply about his words. After a long pause, she snuggled up closer to him and kissed him softly on the lips.

“I love you, Raoul. Thank you for staying.”

And he did stay. Even as he saw what resembled a familiar deformity behind his son’s left ear. Even as he realized that he and Christine could not have any more children after their first. Even as he noticed that he did not have much in common with his son.

Love isn’t a race. It did not matter that he wasn’t first.

Every night, his wife would whisper loving words in his ear. And his son would rush to him and proudly show off the short piece he was composing. And their family would have long, happy discussions around the dining table during holidays.

His marriage was not what he expected, not as easy as the _happily-ever-afters_ in the fairytale storybooks he and Christine used to read as children. But he loved deeply and was loved deeply in turn.

In his prayers, he would sometimes include The Phantom. Despite the horrid things the man had done, Raoul knew that, without him, he wouldn’t have this family that brought his life so much joy.

Love isn’t a race. It’s a marathon, a test of endurance. And Raoul was in it for the long haul.


	11. Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Mazen: “Prompt: a slap to remember! LND fix E/C.”
> 
> I hope you get the closure you wanted with this story, Mazen. Hehehe <3

Nothing but eerie silence surrounded Christine as she stood by the window of her hotel room. Even at night, Coney Island seemed to be bursting with life, but she felt so far removed from it all. Like a ghost of her former self, watching the world move forward without her.

Raoul had exited the hotel only moments ago, saying something about meeting Hammerstein, their most gracious host, at a bar. She had tucked Gustave in bed shortly after, pressing a kiss to her little boy’s forehead as he snored softly. Now, she was alone with her thoughts, alone in this strange room in this foreign country. And, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

As if on cue, she heard a distinct _click_. The familiarity of the sound sent shivers down her spine. She looked behind her and shook her head at the sight before her. Even in the darkness, she could recognize that tall, thin figure clearly.

Had the solitude and silence already driven her mad? It couldn’t be… _He_ couldn’t truly be here…

“ _Christine_ ,” the apparition said with a smile, voice as rich and deep and enticing as she had remembered. The years could not erase the strange pull she felt toward that voice, toward this ghost that stood before her. Conflicting emotions stirred within her, threatening to break the barrier that had built around her heart after his absence.

When she stood frozen in place, not saying a word, the man—the ghost—took a step forward.

“I’m sorry to have startled you so, my dear. I know that you had not been expecting my presence tonight… I know that you might never had expected to see me again…”

_SMACK!_

The Phantom recoiled, eyes wide in shock as he pressed a hand to the cheek that she had just slapped. For an entire decade, she had thought about what she wanted to say to Erik should she ever see him again. There was so much she wanted to tell him to his face. But in that moment, she couldn’t remember a single line from the carefully crafted speech she had rehearsed in her head over and over.

All she could remember upon seeing his masked face again was the pain she felt that morning when she woke and found him gone. The despair she felt when she tried so hard to search for him but couldn’t find a trace of where he possibly escaped to. She thought that she had moved on, that the holes in her heart created by his absence have already scabbed over and healed, but at the sight of him, she was again bleeding and raw.

She had never wanted to hurt anyone before, but her hand seemed to react before her mind could process what was happening.

“Christine, I…” he started, still holding a hand to his cheek as he carefully approached her, chastened by her initial reaction. The mysterious Phantom, feared by many, was trembling before her like a deer about to be devoured by a mighty lioness.

She quickly turned away, shame and rage warring within her. “I didn’t mean to smack you.”

“I deserved it,” he whispered.

She tried to wrack her brain, to remember all that she wished to say. But the words would not come and only tearful, half-formed questions were left in their place.

“Why? _Why now_?”

“I’m sorry, Christine. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Then why are you here? It’s been ten years, Erik. _Ten long years_.”

“I have no excuse… I couldn’t live without hearing you sing ever again,” he replied, tone filled with so much raw emotion.

She turned toward him and looked him in the eye. Those strange mismatched eyes that held all the sadness of the world. Though she felt a pang of sympathy for him, she was no longer the same woman he had left all those years ago. The heartache had hardened her, made her stronger in many ways.

“You have no right to do this. You have _no right_ to come barging into my life after leaving me without so much as an explanation.”

“I was only doing what was best for you, Christine.”

At this statement, she scoffed. “Only I get to decide what is best for me, Erik. And you never even gave me a choice!”

“You must understand… I was a wanted man in France. I couldn’t stay.”

“Yes, but you never asked if _I_ wanted to stay. What if I wanted to go with you instead?”

His eyes widened. “Did you… do you mean that?”

She turned away again, looking toward the open balcony. “You made your choice, and you chose to leave me behind.”

He reached a hand out toward her but stopped before he made contact with her shoulder. “You’re right. What’s done is done. I would take it back if I could.”

“But you can’t,” she replied blankly.

He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. Instead, they let the silence fill the air, making the atmosphere around them even colder and harsher.

Finally, he spoke again, his tone warm and gentle, “I’m sorry, Christine. For leaving and for all the pain I’ve caused you. I have no right to ask this of you again but I must know… would you truly have left with me if I had only asked?”

She looked up at him and spoke softly but firmly, “ _Yes_.”

With that one word, the weight of all those years, all those unspoken words, seemed to lift from her shoulders. The closure she had been seeking was finally hers for the taking.

“I loved you so much, and I would have followed you anywhere. Our one night together meant more to me than you possibly could have imagined. But you abandoned me. And you left me alone to deal with the consequences...”

_You left me and I bore your child._

She watched him closely as the devastating reality of her confession crushed him in its grip.

“Oh, Christine,” he wept, “ _forgive me_.”

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all ever want to send me prompts or get updates on my works or just want to look at all the POTO memes I reblog, follow me on [Tumblr](https://helloitskrisha.tumblr.com/)! :")


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